Bloom
by SonjaTaylor
Summary: Tseng has died. Rufus Shinra is left in turmoil from having lost the only person he actually cared about and respected. Tseng leaves behind a black folder that is filled with old photos, a preserved flower, and his final wish. These instructions reawaken the past and some painful memories, but nevertheless give Rufus a hope for the future by arranging a fated meeting.


Bloom

A tombstone. Cold and lifeless like the body buried beneath it. Indentions carved into its metal face spelled out the fate of the one it belonged to.  
_TSENG. 1972-0010_

Cold particles of the winter air stung Rufus's exposed face. He sunk his head lower into the scarf wrapped securely around his neck, and squeezed his forearms tighter to his his eyes as the frosty wind blasted against him, threatening to tear his white trench coat from his back. Surrounded by snow in the dark city, lit only by eerie green lights, he looked like a phantom haunting the place of his eternal rest.

_His_ tomb?

Tseng's name may have been carved upon it, but Rufus felt as if it were his own.

"_The only way to leave the Turks is to die."_

Tears formed in Rufus eyes, painfully crystallizing in the cold. He blinked the particles from his eyes, clenching his teeth.

He never cried. Never.

Only that one time…

For one slow moment, the name on the tombstone blurred before his eyes. He envisioned himself standing in the snow, staring at its lifeless face, reading the delicate and beautiful name on the stone. He could feel the sting in his eyes, the tears streaming down his cheeks. He had wrapped his arms around a man's waist. The only pillar he could cling to. Not his father.

But Tseng.

A sound, far away, reverberated within his ears. A hand clamped around his bicep, shaking him.

"Boss, Boss!" The noise formed into intelligible words. "Boss, you're frozen stiff. You're turning all sorts of colors in this blizzard!"

Rufus's whole body startled.

_How long have I been standing here?_

His lips had been frozen together, his fingers tightly clasped around the folds of his coat.

"Come on, Boss!" The voice persisted. "I've gotta get you inside." He sighed. "Looks like you're just gonna have to fire me…because I can't have you dyin'!" An arm wrapped around his shoulders, and one curved under the bend of his leg, lifting him from his pedestal in the snow.

Whiteness flitted across Rufus's vision, blinding everything around him and clouding his mind until it all faded away.

* * *

Warmth.

How long had it been since Rufus felt heat against his skin?

Something hard pressed against his chest. He opened his eyes and lifted his head. His upper body was laying over a tabletop, his chin in his arms. He pushed up onto his elbows, and sleepily blinked around the room.

"Good. You're finally comin' around. Had me worried, Boss."

Rufus turned his gaze to the side to see a man sitting on a couch, propping his gangly elbows on his knees. He pushed from the couch, shifting his eyes guiltily. "You said you wanted to be at the table. Knew I shouldn't listen to you because you were half frozen at the time, but hey…didn't want to risk it."

Memories of being out in the cold flooded back into Rufus's mind…as well as memories of the tombstone…and Tseng.

"Why are you still here, Reno…" He dropped his head wearily into his hands. "I don't want company right now."

"Hey, hey, I get it…I really do. I just wanted to make sure you were gonna be all right."

Rufus dug his fingernails into his skull. "I said…you're _dismissed_!"

"Ok…ok fine. Don't get angry or anything, Sir. Just, at least read the folder on the table. Tseng…wanted you to have it, so there it is. I'm going. Really." The door creaked open, but Reno hesitated. "And, I'm sorry, Boss…Truly, I'm sorry. Tseng meant a lot to me and the guys too."

Rufus didn't respond. He couldn't. His throat had tightened so much that he could hardly breathe. Fortunately for him, Reno didn't wait around. When the door closed shut, Rufus let out a relieved exhale.

Now, it was just him…and the folder.

Slowly, Rufus removed his hands from his face and dropped them to the table. A black business folder lay a few inches away from him. Grudgingly, he dragged it towards his body, and gripped the sides of the folder in his hands. Everything about it spoke of Tseng-black, unscathed, professional.

_Look inside._

_Why are you hesitating?_

Tseng had wanted him to have this.

This was the last and only part of Tseng he had left.

He had to know.

Nervously, yet so reverently, he flipped the cover open, and papers fluttered before his eyes. In the left cover, a yellow preserved flower lay carefully folded beside some photographs. Rufus slid the photographs out, and with shaking hands, lifted them towards his face for a closer inspection of their faded images. With an ill-timed tremor, he accidental dropped them, scattering them across the table top.

Rufus's eyes widened. These were images of him…and Tseng. He tried painfully to remember each moment captured by the pictures, but that seemed impossible. He and Tseng were together in each one-and they were both so young. In fact, every image showed a picture of him as a boy with nothing beyond that. No Vice President or President images. It was all the past.

A picture of a girl caught Rufus's attention. There were more photos…but not of him. A young girl knelt in a bed of flowers in a church. There was a picture of Tseng with her, attempting a photo with both of them in it. And lastly, just a picture of the girl, smiling up at the camera with the most beautiful and angelic smile on her face.

"Who are you?" Rufus whispered.

He looked back to the folder for answers, remembering the flower-a flower much like the ones this girl was pictured with. He picked it up by the stem and studied it, before looking down at the papers in the right side of the folder.

The very first piece of paper was addressed to him.

"_Rufus: There is someone I care deeply for, and there is one task that I cannot leave undone. I need you to take this flower that I have preserved inside this folder to the Church in the Slums. Once there, you will find a girl named Miss Aerith. I ask that you bring this to her…as my final request."_

The Slums…

Rufus's hand tightened around the folder.

Why the slums? Of all places! He could never return to that filthy place. No one but the poor and outcast lived there.

Rufus shut his eyes.

And he had grown up there as well.

_Tseng, why make me go back?_

_You know what I left behind…_

But Tseng had still asked him to do this as his final dying request. Rufus wouldn't even consider doing this for anyone else. But Tseng…Tseng was different than everyone else.

And this girl he cared about must be the one in the photos.

_Is she the one he always used to talk about?_

Rufus pushed to his feet.

_If I get this over with, I'll never have to go to that cursed place again…_

He grabbed his trench coat from the back of his chair, and slid his arms the flower and pictures back into the folder, he took it and shoved it under his arm. On his way out of the room, he snatched his scarf and wrapped it around his neck and lower jaw.

Forget the biting cold.

He had no choice but to face it.

_How long has it been?_

Rufus stood at the border of the Slums, staring into the dirty streets. The place was populated with devastated buildings-their roofs and walls caving in. Junk and garbage littered the ground, and Rufus took watchful steps through the wreckage as he maneuvered his way through the Slums. Had he not known any better, he would have thought a tornado had swept through the place. But no, it had always looked like this.

And it hadn't changed.

Not in all the years he'd been away.

Rufus knew every street, every corner, every building. It was all painfully familiar. Even the way the snow piled up in massive heaps during the winter was just as he remembered.

Rufus turned his head away as he passed a certain street. He couldn't bear to look at the place he had once lived at. He didn't want to remember.

Distractively, he flipped open the black folder to the instructions within. The wind tore at the pages, and he pressed his hand down to hold them in place. He glanced at the letter and pictures again.

_Church in the Slums…  
_That is where he needed to go. His mother had taken him to that church when he was young, but he had since lost all faith in religion. It had not saved his mother, or anyone else, or himself for that matter, and besides…religion was not welcome in politics or part of a President's service.

But now he was going back…to face what he had rejected.

Rufus mounted the steps to the old, abandoned church. Its dirty front, the hole in the roof…It seemed that no one used it anymore. It was nothing more than a place for children to play.

He reached for the door handle on the church, but it swung open, slamming into his forehead and chest. Colors exploded in his vision, and he stumbled backwards down the steps, crumbling to his knees. He grabbed his head to numb the intense throbbing pain.

"Ah!" He heard a female's exclamation. Rapid footsteps echoed down the steps. "I'm sorry! I didn't know you were out there!" A soft and trembling hand touched his shoulder, making only the thinnest contact.

He looked through his fingers to see a young woman leaning over him. Worry, and yet such curiosity, knit across her brow. "The church doesn't get visitors anymore, so I wasn't expecting anyone to be outside." Her green eyes softened. "Are you going to be ok?"

_What am I doing?_

_Showing weakness in front of this…Slum rat._

Rufus pushed to his feet, pulling away from her touch. He kept his back to her as he fought to steady his spinning world. He pressed two fingers to his temple, hoping to quell the pain. Out of his side vision, he caught her curiously peering around his shoulder. Annoyed, he turned to face her.

Her curious smile faded quickly, replaced with surprise, and even fear. Her hands clenched into fists around a basket in her hands, and she clutched it to her chest, while taking a step away. "What do you want?" Her eyes shifted away from his own.

Rufus could only stare in confusion. Had his face really caused such a change in this girl? He fiddled with the folder draped across his arm, but looked straight at her. "I am looking for a girl in the church."

"There is no girl," She responded sharply. "You should just leave."

Her politeness had changed to spite. Why? Her whole body was rigid, and her grip was tight on her flower basket.

_Wait…Flower basket…_

Rufus peeked quickly into the folder at the picture that Tseng had taken of the girl. That girl had been tending flowers like the ones in this young woman's basket. She had the braided hair, the bow, the green eyes…

"Are you…" He closed the folder slowly, and looked up. "Are you…Miss Aerith?"

She let out a quiet gasp, and red burned across her cheeks. She advanced one foot towards him, and put her hands on her hips. "What do you want?" She demanded again. "I know it can't be anything good. I want nothing to do with you, so just leave me alone."

_What's the matter with her?_

He felt his own cheeks burn…with anger. He straightened his back. "What is so offensive about me?"

Her eyebrows angled sharply. "You know that answer. You're a Shinra!"

_A_ Shinra? Lumped into one category? Not unique…all the same…even the same as his father?

"_Rufus_ Shinra," He corrected. "And I'm not-"

"You Shinras have only tried to use me. I can't give you what you want. Just leave me alone!" She tore from the base of the steps and took off running into the populated area of the Slums.

_N-no! Wait!_

He reached a hand after her. "Miss Aerith! Tseng sent me!"

She halted in mid-run. Her shoulders sagged, and she looked back at him. "Tseng?" Her hands fisted. "So, he's on your side now?"

"No," Rufus shook his head. "I mean-" He ran his fingers through his hair distressingly, and took a few steps towards her. "You were close to him, weren't you?"

She hugged her basket to her chest again. "Well…yes. But, why are you saying…_were_? That tone of your voice…"

He advanced closer. "You changed him. I watched it happen. He always spoke about the girl in the Slums. But I-"

_I was too hurt to listen._

_I refused to go._

_He said he'd take me to meet you._

_But I…I couldn't come back here._

_And face my mother's death. _

"Miss Aerith," He felt his throat tighten. Cold air rushed into his lungs. "Tseng is…Tseng is dead."

For a moment, she just stared, mistrusting even. It was as if she were reading his soul, searching for the truth. But slowly, her brow softened.

"But…" She turned to the side, her body trembling, "w-why? I mean…h-how?"

Rufus couldn't speak. He couldn't answer. He couldn't even think. All that was real was what was before him. This girl…shaking…scared…hurting…cold.

"Miss Aerith," He extended a hand towards her. "It's cold out here. Let's talk indoors."

"Inside the church?" She looked up at him.

He nodded, unable to answer. He couldn't make himself understand why he'd go inside the church after discarding all forms of religion.

He walked up the steps towards the church, with her following behind like his shadow. It was all a blur. He held his breath as he opened the doors to that sacred place, and realized that, like the Slums, it hadn't changed. It was just the same as when he and his mother used to go…

* * *

"_Rufus…"_

_His mother sat serenely on a pew, her hands resting on her lap, as she gazed at the flowers growing in the midst of the broken floor boards. What little light drifted through the ceiling highlighted her golden hair._

"_These flowers in the church are so beautiful, aren't they? I wish…that they could grow in the rest of the Slums, so that you couldn't look in any direction without seeing color and beauty."_

_She reached a hand out to him to draw him closer. "Rufus, when your father comes to take you into the city so that you can receive training and hold a position…don't forget about your home. One day…you'll have the power to fulfill my wish-to make our home beautiful. Never forget."_

* * *

"Shinra? Helloooo?"

Rufus blinked rapidly to bring his reality back. How long had he phased out? Last thing he remembered, he was entering the church. Now he was sitting on one of the pews, with Aerith leaning over him, worriedly.

_Did she put me here?_

He touched a hand to his head briefly. "There is just a lot on my mind right now."

She sat gently down on the pew next to him. "Because of Tseng?" Her tone was sympathetic.

Rufus nodded. Why deny it? He slipped his hand into his folder and pulled out a picture of him and Tseng together, and held it over to her. "Look at this."

"Is this you and Tseng?" A smile crept up her mouth. "You're both so young!"

Rufus felt his cheeks warm up. "Tseng was very important to me."

She turned her head to the side, knowingly. "Like a father?"

He shifted his gaze, his jaw stiffening.

_Yes, that's right._

_Because my own father wouldn't assume that role._

"That's how it was for me too," Aerith smiled, as if reading his mind. "Tseng was always there to watch out for me."

_But is that how he saw it? _Rufus thought of the flower tucked within his folder. He still had to give that to her…

"So…can I visit him?" Aerith looked hopingly into his eyes.

_Visit him?_

"Tseng's…grave?" Rufus felt his throat tightening again.

Aerith set her flower basket between the two of them on the pew. "I want to bring him some flowers. He…always loved them in the church."

"My mother was the same way," Rufus muttered, staring off.

"Your mother?" She repeated, surprised.

Rufus lowered his gaze. Why hide it any longer? He had hidden the truth his whole life. And here was someone who, for the first time, might understand. "She was from the Slums…as was I."

"You?" Her eyes widened. "A Shinra from the Slums?"

He shook his head. "_Rufus_," He reminded her. "I'm not _just_ a Shinra."

_I'm just a boy…_

_Just a Slum rat like you._

"Then," A smile stole across her lips. "This is your home?"

A distant look clouded Rufus's eyes. "My mother dreamed of a day when all of the Slums could be covered with flowers."

A soft hand settled on top of his own. "We can fulfill that," She promised him.

_We?_

_I don't know…_

"I have other duties now," He brushed the idea off, pulling his hand away.

A disappointed frown formed across her face, and she crossed her arms. "Then, I suppose you must be too busy to take me to Tseng."

_When did I-?_

"No," He responded defensively. "That's on the way back to the city, so…"

"It's convenient," She curled her lip. "So you'll take me. But that's the only reason why."

Biting back his injured pride, he stood to his feet and gestured towards the door. "Do you want to go or not?" It came out harsher than he truly meant it.

She rose stiffly to her feet. "I'm going whether you take me or not. I'm capable of finding the way."

She grabbed her basket and stomped towards the doorway. Rufus blew out an exasperated puff of cold air, and trudged after her.

_How did Tseng manage this girl?_

"Miss Aerith…"

She never looked back. "Are you coming or not?"

_Yes…I'm coming._

* * *

Standing in that spot again felt like some horrible dream…a nightmare relived. Rufus watched Aerith, stiff in the cold, tears frozen in her eyelashes, unable to move. Just staring. Staring down at that cold, lifeless stone.

_TSENG. 1972-0010_

Slowly, she knelt in the snow, lowering her basket to the ground. Then, carefully, and ever so lovingly, she began to arrange flowers around Tseng's grave.

"I remember now," Aerith told him, finding the voice he could never hope to find. "Tseng used to tell me about a boy, who lived in the city. Tseng always wanted me to meet him...Because he would change me or something. But I…was too scared to listen. I refused to said he'd take me to meet him, but…I couldn't go back there…and face my mother's death."

_You lost your mother too?_

_Tseng never mentioned that…_

Rufus opened up Tseng's folder in his arm, and looked at the preserved flower. Tseng had told him to give this to Aerith as his final wish. Tseng had loved the flowers so much that he had saved one just to give to her in the future. But were the flowers all that he loved?

The icy wind tore at the papers inside of the folder, ripping one from the cover. Rufus snatched it at, but the wind drove it out of his reach, sending it drifting over the city.

He'd never find it.

With a frosty sigh, he looked back at the folder in his hand, only to see a piece of paper he had not yet read.

"_Rufus: For years, I have wanted you to meet Miss Aerith. I know that she will change you, as she has changed me, and everyone else who has come into contact with her. I loved her, though I always knew that I was not worthy of her. I had hoped that perhaps, one day, _you _might be the one who could be worthy of her. You are a flower that is late to bloom, but when you have, give Miss Aerith this flower. I can only pray that it is not too late by then…as it was for me."_

For a moment, Rufus could only stare at those stark black words on the page.

_Not worthy?_

_A flower late to bloom?_

_Give her the flower…myself?_

Carefully, he pulled the flower out of the folder and looked at it, dumbly. Tseng had left many things behind through his death. But his greatest treasure, Aerith, he had not left without protection. He had made sure that she would be taken care of.

_He said that I would change her…_

_And that she would change me…_

_Is this…possible?_

Rufus took a step closer to where Aerith was kneeling.

"Miss Aerith…" He cleared his throat.

She rose slowly to her feet, blinking back her tears.

He held the flower out to her, unsure what he was doing. "Tseng wanted me to…No I wanted to give you…this flower."

"This is…for me?" Her eyes widened.

His hand trembled. "We have much in common. And Tseng was very important to both of us. As such, I should have been more sympathetic towards you. I'm sorry. I can't change the fact that I'm a Shinra, but-"

He never finished. Aerith dropped her basket, and hugged him, knocking him back a pace. Tears wetted the front of his coat, whether his own or hers, he didn't know.

"You don't have to say anything," She shut her eyes. "I understand…_Rufus_."

"Miss Aerith…" He whispered, surprised. Carefully, he touched a hand to her shoulder, as though afraid of the contact, and pushed her back at arms-length. "You said that we could make the Slums beautiful. That is what I want. No duties of mine are more important than that."

She smiled passed her tears. "We can start right now." She curled her fingers around his hand on the flower, and lowered it to Tseng's grave. "Tseng brought us together," She mused. "So let's not disappoint him…or your mother."

The cold particles in the air stung Rufus's exposed face, but he could have laughed. He smiled. It was cold. Freezing. Possibly even lifeless. But he was alive. And he had Miss Aerith…the flower girl.

_His _flower girl.

Rufus looked down at all of the flowers beautifully arranged on Tseng's grave.

_You've made all of these flowers bloom, Aerith._

_And I know you can do that for me too._

_Even in this winter._


End file.
